♡ TL: Khadija SK
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Her entire body stiffened with tension.
Did he notice? Is that why he called her over, just to humiliate her?
Jin-ah bit her tongue lightly to steady herself. There was no way. He wasn’t some kind of bloodhound. How could he possibly know about the faint trace of blood she had wiped away immediately?
Perhaps her guarded demeanor was too obvious, as Ian smiled.
“There’s really no need to be so tense. I simply wanted to meet you and personally express my gratitude because it was truly delicious.”
His voice was rich and resonant, with an elegance that matched his mannerisms. He embodied politeness and sophistication.
The memory of him acting crassly toward her before made her feel even more irritated.
“The steak served earlier was, honestly, revolting—so much so that it was inedible. That awful taste of nicotine! It’s almost unbelievable that no one else could detect it.”
“…”
Jin-ah didn’t respond to his words.
She herself was sensitive when it came to food. Just as he mentioned, she would never eat anything handled by someone who had just come back from smoking.
But to detect that odor in a cooked steak? That was beyond human ability.
Yet Ian spoke as if it were entirely natural for him to notice such things.
Silence hung between them for a moment before Ian spoke again.
“Do you plan to continue working here?”
She almost blurted out, ‘What business is that of yours?’
“For now, yes. But I’ll be leaving soon.”
Her contract only lasted until the Christmas season—barely two more weeks.
Once it was over, she would immediately start looking for another place.
As Ian continued speaking with Jin-ah, the attention of the people around them became even more focused on the two. They seemed curious about why he had called out a chef from the kitchen.
The issue was that among those watching was the executive chef.
When he noticed Jin-ah standing there in her chef’s uniform, he looked perplexed and walked over to the floor manager. After a brief exchange, his face turned red, and he stormed back into the kitchen.
‘Ugh. The kitchen’s atmosphere is going to be a disaster.’
Jin-ah felt a throbbing in her head. The thought of returning to face that awkwardness made her stomach churn.
“If you don’t have anything else to say, may I go back now?”
Her tone was cold, even to her own ears. She could feel the woman sitting next to Ian staring in surprise. Her expression seemed to ask, ‘Do you even know who this man is? How can you speak to him like that?’
Considering that the person next to him seemed uncomfortable, Jin-ah thought Ian would also feel embarrassed and finally show his true self.
“Ah, my apologies for taking up your time. Once again, thank you. Thanks to you, I was finally able to eat something decent.”
Unfortunately, Ian remained polite until the end, as if he had always been an impeccably cultured and courteous gentleman.
Jin-ah hurriedly excused herself, offering a parting remark to enjoy the rest of his meal, and made her way back to the kitchen.
She could feel the gazes of everyone at the table clinging to her back.
The moment she stepped through the door, she could hear the executive chef’s booming voice echoing from the other side of the kitchen.
Even without seeing, she could guess exactly what kind of atmosphere awaited inside. Jin-ah stopped and leaned against the wall.
“This is going to be the death of me.”
She already felt suffocated, trying to navigate the constant tension. Now, things were only bound to get worse.
What made her chest feel even heavier was the reality that she couldn’t even confront Ian, the person who had put her in this difficult situation. Instead, she had to stand there, nodding politely and saying ‘yes, sir.’
After a long pause, when the noise from inside had somewhat subsided, Jina finally stepped into the kitchen.
Just as she expected, the atmosphere inside was hostile.
The sous chef shot her a sharp glare, clicked his tongue, and turned away. His group followed suit.
As she returned to her station and tied her apron, Jessie whispered to her in a hushed voice.
“The head chef was furious. It’s a busy season, so the sous chef didn’t get fired, but the haid chef said if this happens again, he’s done for. He was ready to crack some skulls with a frying pan.”
Jessie kept working while continuing to whisper.
“Be careful, though. You know how the sous chef is. He’s probably stewing over this, looking for a way to make you pay.”
Jin-ah nodded. She knew he was a petty and spiteful person, and he’d undoubtedly hold onto this humiliation for a long time.
‘Just two weeks.’
In that time, she thought, she would just have to keep her head down and avoid trouble.
Jin-ah grabbed a disposable bandage from the kitchen supply and wrapped it around her cut finger before slipping on a pair of nitrile gloves.
Ian’s gesture of touching the spot where her blood had been earlier lingered in her mind. It was as if he had known something was there.
‘Forget it. Just focus on work.’
Soon after, orders for the final courses and additional dishes came in, and the kitchen was back to its chaotic rhythm.
Amidst the flurry of activity, Jin-ah no longer had the mental space to think about Ian.
***
The party was winding down. Though it was a dignified affair, there were a few who couldn’t handle their liquor, either dozing off or staggering unsteadily.
One of those stumbling guests approached Ian.
“Ian! I heard you almost died, but you look perfectly fine!”
Ian silently observed the man who had addressed him. His gaze was calculated, like a predator assessing whether the figure before him was prey or not.
“Ian?”
Even through his drunken haze, the man seemed to sense something off. He blinked at Ian in confusion. Ian, however, smiled and finally spoke.
“Ah, Richard.”
The man called Richard laughed and clapped Ian on the shoulder, as if to shake off the awkwardness between them.
“Did you hit your head when you fell? Anyone would think we hadn’t seen each other in ages. You were drinking with me the night before the accident!”
Richard chuckled, glancing at the woman sitting beside Ian. She was the daughter of a high-ranking executive in the Aylesford Group, but at Richard’s pointed look, she quickly rose and vacated her seat.
There were two reasons for this.
First, Richard was the son of a prominent company, and second, he had a notorious reputation as a troublemaker in London’s business circles. No one wanted to get on his bad side.
As the woman scurried away, Richard watched her retreating figure with a predatory glint, as if deciding to let her off the hook for now, and plopped down heavily in the vacant seat.
“I heard you were hospitalized. How’s your recovery? I told you not to get into unnecessary trouble. Something about starting your own business, right? Why’d you have to go stirring up that old man’s temper like that?”
Richard grabbed a glass of wine from the table—it wasn’t even his—and took a sip, all while studying Ian’s relaxed demeanor. Yet, buried deep in Richard’s gaze was a flicker of disdain.
The truth was, Richard didn’t like Ian.
Though he was born into a decent family, Richard was the third son, lacking any remarkable talents or prospects. Ian, on the other hand, might have been just as useless, but he had the privilege of being the sole heir to Aylesford.
Ian’s parents had died in an accident when he was young, and his grandfather, the Aylesford chairman, had raised him with immense care and indulgence.
Perhaps it was inevitable that Ian grew up as a spoiled, reckless brat, living without a shred of fear or restraint.
Despite attending prestigious public schools and universities—thanks to his family’s wealth—his academic performance was abysmal, and money had smoothed over most of the hurdles to get him his degree.
The chairman wanted to groom his only grandson to be a key figure in the Aylesford Group, but Ian wasn’t interested. Anything dull or conventional was immediately dismissed as unworthy of his attention.
Instead, Ian immersed himself in a life of lavish, tawdry parties, indulging in every vice imaginable. Drugs, women, and extravagance marked his daily routine, faithfully walking the path of decadence afforded to the obscenely rich.
At some point, Ian had been sweet-talked by a video channel operator he met somewhere, persuading him to invest in their project.
“The world is all about content now. Farming has its limits. This will be the new beginning for Aylesford!”
Richard had found it laughable. Supporting some amateurish channel and calling it a media business? It was little more than a child’s plaything to him.
And then Ian had nearly died in the process. From what Richard had heard, Ian had been sneaking into some old, decrepit house for reasons unknown, only for the floor to collapse beneath him, sending him plummeting into the basement.
If it had been Richard’s family, such a spectacle would have been met with cold mockery.
‘Lucky bastard,’ Richard thought bitterly. ‘Still, he’s their only bloodline, so he’ll inherit Aylesford regardless.’
The feeling of jealousy twisted in Richard’s stomach. Concealing his true feelings, he continued to be friendly with Ian. He gave Ian what he wanted, dutifully playing the part of a subordinate.
The family business had already been divided among his capable older siblings. As for Richard, someone with no particular abilities, he would likely be relegated to a low-ranking position with no real power.
But if he kept being friendly with Ian? Perhaps he could land a decent position in one of Aylesford’s subsidiaries, which was far better than anything his own family could offer.
So Richard whispered to Ian.
“Next Wednesday night. You’ve kept it free, right?”
“Wednesday? What’s going on?”
“Didn’t you get a message from Jeremy? ‘A Night with No Questions.’ This year, it’s at this hotel.”
Then, in an even quieter voice, he added,
“Let’s enjoy it to the fullest, like always.”
Just imagining it, Richard felt a thrill in his lower body.
Jeremy was infamous for throwing the dirtiest and most chaotic parties among the heir gatherings. He even boasted about never having been with a London call girl he hadn’t slept with.
As the grandson of a company as big as Aylesford, he was known for flying in all the women from the most perverse and sensual places in Soho every Christmas.
He would rent an entire hotel floor and host a depraved party.
It was called ‘A Night with No Questions,’ a year-end party.
Though it hadn’t been around for long, the party quickly became the most coveted invitation among wealthy young elites.
Ian was always among the VIPs invited each year. But Richard could only attend if he went with Ian.
Richard’s words made Ian pause for a moment in thought. Then, as if remembering, Ian nodded and answered.
“Oh, that… this year’s at this hotel, right?”
“Why? Don’t want to go?”
Ian smiled and shook his head. Then he glanced at the plate in front of him and said,
“With food this good, how could I say no?”
On his plate was a steak that hadn’t been touched.
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nothing like a Diddy party 😭😭😭💀